


Magical Maintenance

by vrnca



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27362578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrnca/pseuds/vrnca
Summary: No other place screams "dysfunctional office relationship" more than the Magical Maintenance department. Even if they do have weather windows. And even if Lucy Weasley of a sunlit persona, thinks otherwise.a humoristic, slightly realistic view on office settings and its workers
Relationships: Lucy Weasley/Original Male Character(s), Lysander Scamander/Lucy Weasley, Scorpius Malfoy/Lucy Weasley
Kudos: 1





	1. The Department (Lucy) Says Hello

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Lucy believes lemon sherbets are not tasteless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Parks and Recreation.

“So, how do you find this job?”  
  
I sat up straight, my face popping into an automatic smile. Smiles for me are some sort of an involuntary habit. Like blinking or inhale-exhaling. I cannot help it—they pop out whenever. Of course, smiling had become some sort of a problem for me, too. Like when my ex-boyfriend broke up with me and I didn’t know what to do that I started smiling—THAT’S NOT THE POINT, THOUGH.  
  
Really. It isn’t.  
  
I heard someone cleared their throat and my eyes focused back to the interviewer in front of me. She was wearing this bored look on her face and a really nice magenta robes—real shiny and I bet it’s velvet—  
  
I reached out my hand to touch her robes. She flinched back, throwing me an incredulous look. I apologized quickly, my face stretching again into another toothy grin. I composed myself, rolling back my shoulders like what countless of composed women do and raised a finger knowingly.  
  
“Um, what was your question, again?”  
  
I heard Merlin face-palmed himself in the background.  
  
Or that’s probably just Trevor Paisley.  
  
The interviewer, Sharon, she claims herself to be, sighed before rolling her eyes. She repeated the question exasperatedly before adding tiny comments like, “Just tell me if it’s okay or not. Just something simple as that then we can move on to another question.”  
  
I ignored her comments. “Well, it’s mega, isn’t it?” I gushed out excitedly. “I mean, we’re obviously doing a fantastic job! How many wizarding folk can say that they regulate the whole Ministry? I mean, sure, the Minister just sits up there, announces something brilliant and Law Enforcement passes up bills for laws but they’re just the actors, y’know?” I paused to wait for a response from Sharon.  
  
Her right eye just twitched.  
  
“I mean, we are the crew back here!” I continued, pouring out all my enthusiasm just to get a positive reaction from Sharon Baron.  
  
(That’s not really her name. I just thought it rhymes.)  
  
“We’re the ones who prep everything backstage and without us, I think the show will not be going on in the first place!” I finish, beaming at Sharon. When she didn’t give me anything—not even a blink, I turned to the rest of the Magical Maintenance crew behind me.  
  
They all ducked their heads, staring at their tables pretentiously. Except Arthur Perkins, who waved his stubby hand and gave a thumbs-up.  
  
I pretended I didn’t see it.  
  
“Anything you would like to complain about?” Sharon continued, flicking her blunt dyed-cherry-red fringe from her eyes.  
  
Was she getting me to say something incredulous about my wonderful job? How dare she! I love this job! I love Magical! I love Maintenance! I love Magical Maintenance!  
  
“Clearly.” She piped up and I just realized that I shouted that bit out loud. The gold quill hovering in the air beside her scribbled furiously on the levitating parchment. _Scratch, scratch, scratch._  
  
I rose up slightly from the stool I was sitting on to peer on what the Quick Quotes Quill was writing.  
  
_...boring, tedious, dull Lucy Weasley wets her horrendous canary trousers to proclaim about her absolutely horrific job like some child boasting about her tasteless lemon sherbet—_  
  
“Lemon sherbets are not tasteless!” I proclaimed, scandalized.  
  
Sharon flicked back her fake-cherry red hair. She rose up from her seat, grinning at her gold Quick Quotes Quill. “Good job, Midas.” She cooed.  
  
“My name’s Lucy.” I snapped hotly, standing up.  
  
Sharon turned to me, snorting. Then she gave my strawberry-blonde hair, short height and amazing smile the once-over. “Perhaps we should just continue this tomorrow.” She says, examining a fingernail. She was wearing a colour-changing nail polish. But it only shuffles from silver, gold and bronze.  
  
I was wearing colour-changing nail polish, too. Only rainbow-coloured and based from what I was feeling. It glimmered a dark brooding red before shuffling quickly to cheap orange.  
  
I closed my fists so that she won’t notice how cheap it was. Not that it was really cheap. It wasn’t but you know, maybe I should find something like a gold-silver-bronze nail polish, too.  
  
“Perhaps so.” I say, coolly. I threw her another smile—I told you, it’s automatic for me, holding up a hand. She sneered at it before rolling her eyes and sashaying away.  
  
I collapsed back on the chair, my hand still outstretched. “Nice meeting you, too.” I mumbled after her.  
  
Titus Bellamy passed by and shook my outstretched hand, his hands greasy with whatever he’s been eating. “Thanks for the tissue, Luce. You are such a babe.” He called out as he sprayed a watermelon-smelling sanitizer in his hand.  
  
I looked down to my greasy-smelling hand before walking past Arthur towards my desk. I patted Arthur on his broad back with my greasy hand before shuffling quickly to my seat.  
  
“Thanks, Luce.” He called out jovially before continuing on his scribbles.  
  
I waved half-heartedly, sinking guiltily down my seat.  
  
***  
  
The Magical Maintenance has been my alternative family for almost-two years since I graduated from Hogwarts with an Outstanding on everything irrelevant except Charms. And I only have 5 N.E.W.T.s: Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, Muggle Studies, Herbology and Charms. Sure I got Outstanding in all of them but as the moment I broadcasted this in front of my parents, they sort of faltered slightly.  
  
Alright, they were aghast. They told me how pointless almost everything in my N.E.W.T.s was. I may have as well become some sort of wisecrack old fool instead. Because I won’t be able to go anywhere.  
  
To my defense, I seriously considered becoming a Naturalist. Except that, Dad wanted me to be in the Ministry and Mum wanted me to become a Healer so when they were both shamelessly disappointed, they sort of refused to humour my dreams of becoming a Naturalist like Luna Lovegood.  
  
And her dreamy husband, Rolf.  
  
So I decided to be in Magical Maintenance. Which is another pathetic story. I practically _begged_ to be in the Magical Maintenance. The Head Maintenance Officer, Rick Jones, just asked me one question: Do I like working for the government?  
  
I launched a thousand ships full of words about that Helen-like question. I babbled about how the Ministry has been doing such an effective job since the war, which has been long gone but still brings out the sensibleness in you if you talk about it, y’know? Anyway, he was shaking his head the entire time I gushed out perkily and he slammed his face on the table when I said I loved the Statute of Secrecy so I didn’t know when it happened but I just told him that all my irrelevant except Charms Outstanding N.E.W.T.s would just be that if I’m not even given the chance to make them useful.  
  
I was really tearing up at that part and he just asked me, with his face still down the table, “How good are you at Charms?”  
  
I disillusioned his whole desk plus the things above it with a nonverbal flick and I guess he was pretty much impressed.  
  
“Can you do thunderstorms?” I did.  
  
“Snow?” I did.  
  
“Falling autumn leaves?” I did, too.  
  
The next day and the next day after the next day after that, I was hired.  
  
And now, here I am, fast forward to two years later and I just have to say, I love my job. I mean, sure, Titus barely does any of his paper works and just shuffles them over to my desk. And Karenina just polishes her nails every single time while composing dozens of Howlers to send to her ex-lovers. Rick just sits on his desk the whole day, sometimes polishing his wand, sometimes snorts at all the requests from up above before handing them down to me. Trevor just looms and glooms beside his stormy window and could be the biological twin of our new Intern June, who makes fun of everything and can be scary, sometimes. Old Arthur is...er, Old Arthur. And I may or may not have snogged Lysander from the Department above and now he’s ignoring me but it’s not that _bad_ , really.  
  
“LEVEL FIVE IS ON FIRE AGAIN!”  
  
Rick slammed his door, yelling, “Titus!”  
  
Titus looked up from picking his teeth on the mirror and whistled to Karenina, who sent him a rude middle finger gesture before snapping her fingers to June, who loomed over Arthur menacingly.  
  
Arthur looked helplessly at me from all the parchment he’s been scribbling on and I sighed. No one even bothered telling Terror Trevor about the fire. I think maybe he was the one who set it off himself.  
  
I rose up from my seat and armed myself with my wand, my nails turning a shade of purple. I know I’m always perky and happy to help out but really, fuck Level Five for _always_ being on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was started 4 years ago and I don't know. I wanted to write it again.


	2. The Department (Thanks, Arthur) Gets Drenched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Arthur decided to drown the Magical Maintenance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless stated otherwise, this is all Lucy's POV.

“It’s quite a lovely morning, isn’t it?” I called out to the Department, who were all huddled near the lift. Their heads quickly snapped towards the direction of my voice and the heat radiating in my hands.  
  
“Oh, thank Merlin, Luce.”  
  
“Shuffle on quickly, will you?”  
  
“Where is it? Where’s the Diva’s caffeine?”  
  
“Yes. Yes. It’s quite a morning, Lucy.”  
  
I handed them their respective cups of coffee that I was always obligated to bring every morning. Being in the Magical Maintenance simply means being there on the Ministry earlier than everyone else because we have to ensure everything’s dandy and convenient. But even if most of us have already worked half our lives in this setting, we still can’t help but be grouchy about it.  
  
It’s six in the morning, after all.  
  
And we just got out five hours before.  
  
“I insta-owled Junebug to bring bagels. She should be—“  
  
“It’s just _June_!” June the Intern snapped. But her menacing look wasn’t at all effective when she’s stifling a yawn and rubbing her eyes. Her mascara smudged.  
  
I decided to skip my usual ‘But Junebug is a really good name’ retort and handed her the coffee. “Cappuccino with three packets of sugar, yeah?”  
  
She took it gratefully, her lips twitching. Then she mumbled something on the cup before blowing on it.  
  
“What was that?” I leaned my ear closer. I already heard her the first time but Junebug so rarely says ‘thank-you’s that it’s always such a reward or a subject of teasing when she does.  
  
“Shut up, Luce. You already know what I said.” Her look of doom was back.  
  
I grinned at her cheekily before ducking my hand into the paper bag of bagels and taking one. June shuffled over to the others to offer them the food.  
  
“So,” I started, my mouth full of the bread I bit on. “Should we do a windy, today?”  
  
Rick took a sip of his coffee cautiously, his glasses glinting. “Well, it’s been a while since we actually broadcasted an accurate weather, y’know? I think we should just give them the sun, Lucy. Because you’re right, it is quite a morning.”  
  
“Aww, Richard!” Karenina cooed, pinching Rick’s cheeks. He pulled away grudgingly, careful not to spill his coffee on her. “You’re in a better mood, aren’t you?”  
  
Rick rolled his eyes. “You do know Rick is not short for Richard, right?”  
  
“Oh?” Titus called out in surprise. “What else could Rick be possible short for?”  
  
“ _Rick_ don’tcare.” Trevor said snippily, sipping his black coffee. He didn’t bother to take a bagel.  
  
“ _Rick_ etyslap.” June said, biting on hers.  
  
“Fucke _rick_.”  
  
“T _rick_ or treat.”  
  
“B _rick_ by boring brick.”  
  
“C _rick_ et.”  
  
“P _rick_ ly.”  
  
“Pinp _rick_.”  
  
“Str—“  
  
“Alright, shut up, you wankers.” Rick cut them off as June and Trevor shared a high-five. “Let’s just get this shitty job done, yeah?”  
  
I nodded, finishing the last of my bagel and slightly cooling off my coffee to a drinkable level. The other quickly finished theirs, too, with June and Trevor still on about what could possibly be Rick short for. I was tempted to tell them just to get them to proceed on working and I almost did if not for Rick already blocking my way.  
  
“Lucy.” He warned, throwing me a pointed look.

I sighed, not entirely getting the point of Rick wanting to hide his full name. It wasn’t that it was bad, he reasoned out ages ago, but that he was very uncomfortable with exposing it out there. Something about keeping low profiles and privacy.  
  
Rick Jones was really big on privacy. That’s why his table is located in an office where there’s a door that he could slam and lock if he’s feeling unsecure.  
  
“So today’s Weather Windows are Sunshine?” I asked him, throwing him my usual smile.  
  
“I’ll be fucked,” He lifted his coffee cup up like he was making a toast. “But Sunshine it is.” He gulped on his coffee, finishing it. Then he pointed his wand on the paper cup, incinerating it.  
  
We scattered out on every level in the Ministry, doing our usual jobs: casting weathers on the Ministry windows, filling the floo pots with floo powder; checking the maintenance of the lifts; charming the fountain to flow water; managing all the paper airplane memos that have gone askew and such.  
  
I was assigned to do Minister Shacklebolt’s windows today, being the only expert on casting a perfect illusion of Sunshine through the windows—we each have our own specialties. You could say that it was sort of based on our personalities as Karenina can manage posh imitations of Autumn leaves and Titus could nail the windy effect perfectly. Trevor has his storms, of course and recently we found out Junebug has her penchant for lightning.  
  
When every fireplace, lift, windows, porters, doors and such are managed and maintained, we headed back to our Department’s floor level. It has already been an hour and a half since and people were starting to flood through the gates of the Ministry of Magic and fireplaces were roaring with green flames.  
  
As we were about to fill in the lift specially for the Magical Maintenance use, Old Arthur came wheezing about to our direction, clutching his navy blue robes. He was the only one who even bothers on wearing the blasted thing, complete with the badge and his name and all.  
  
“Artie!” June called out, grinning at Arthur’s sweaty state.  
  
“June.” He greeted politely before turning to me. “What weather are we doing today? I was hoping that we could charm chirping birds...”  
  
“We’ve already settled on to just Sunshine, Arthur.”  
  
“Oh that’s brilliant. Okay, let’s go start now, shall we?” He piped up and we all turned to look at everything except him.  
  
“Er...”  
  
“Last one to go in the lift is a rotten egg!” Titus bellowed out and we quickly piled into the lift, filling it. Arthur has half of his fat body out of it.  
  
“Oh no!” He cried out, sighing. “Oh well, guess I am the rotten egg again.”  
  
“You’re always the rotten egg.”  
  
I slapped Trevor’s arm to shut him up. He winced, cursing and rubbing his arm. Karenina pulled the door closed as soon as Arthur managed to pull out the other half of his body.  
  
“We’ll see you downstairs, Arthur.” I smiled at him as he beamed back.  
  
The lift started to jerk downwards.  
  
“Oh, Lucy! Did you have my chai tea?” He called out as we slowly descended.  
  
“No, sorry!” I yelled back before he completely disappeared from view.  
  
“Extra coffee?” He called out once more as the lift descended quickly, Arthur disappearing from view.  
  
We all sighed in relief.  
  


***

**Interview: Arthur Perkins, Parchment Works, Magical Maintenance**

  
  
“How does it feel that you have to squeeze your body inside the lift and must ride with nobody to prevent overloading?”  
  
“Well, it’s not so bad. I’m really used to it. I’m not saying I was fat my entire life because honestly, I’m not. I even used to play Chaser in Quidditch at Hogwarts and that’s when my wife, Amelia fell in love with me. Amelia’s such a good cook, you know. So generous and her delicious apple pies—“  
  
“Do you bring her apple pies with you?”  
  
“Why yes! Do you want some?”  
  
“If it’s not a bother.”  
  
“Wait—I’m checking my pockets—oh! Wonderful! Here you go—but wait—oh no! They’re crushed! I’m sure they still taste good. I must’ve sat on them awhile ago—What? Are you sure you don’t want some? They still smell good and—no? Okay. Wait, you’re leaving? But—“  
  


***

  
  
I sighed as I hopped into the lift exiting Level Five. I wiped the soot from my arms from dealing with the Level Five’s fire. As per bloody usual.  
  
I kept on probing about what seems to be the everyday cause of their fires and why does no one even bother to _Aguamenti_ them instead of always summoning our department to do the sooty work?  
  
Maybe they’re bloody idiots.  
  
I wrinkled my nose on the smell of the soot, careful not to put my hands on my hair and dampen my apple-fragrance shampoo. I was still busy wiping the last of the soot in the spot before my armpits when the lift stopped on Level Six, the door sliding open to reveal Lysander Scamander.  
  
I yelped, dropping my arm hastily but the amusement in Lysander’s dreamy grey eyes—ahem.  
  
He smiled at me and I felt relieved because since our snog, he’s been acting a bit distant around me. Just nodding and such.  
  
And that was only two weeks ago. I spent much agony trying to play what went wrong. I mean, I’m a fair snog! It’s not like I have the washing-machine syndrome! And sure, both of us might’ve been a bit drunk—I was, perhaps a lot more—I still can manage good kissing!  
  
“Hey,” I called out to what I thought was a real sultry voice that was really hard to manage and so I ended up coughing. Even worse when I tried to cover my mouth with my sooty hand and the cough got worse.  
  
So much for sultriness.  
  
“Are you alright?” Lysander asked, placing a hand on my arm.  
  
I coughed in affirmation, giving him a grimy thumbs-up.  
  
He chuckled. “Level five?” He grinned apologetically. As if it was his fault lame level five always has fucking fire. Considering his hotness, though. It might actually be.  
  
“Yeah. Small fires or big, they automatically yell for us.” I smiled at him—my best bright smile. “Sometimes I think they forget they have wands, too. And are capable of magic, ugh.” I scratched my forehead, agitated about Level Five’s dependency.  
  
Like an infant to her mother’s breast.  
  
I turned upwards to Lorcan to cast him another smile and I was surprised to see him already looking at me.  
  
I’m not going to lie. I was thinking A LOT about snogging him, again.  
  
And as he reached out, hesitantly at first, then he shrugged and I thought that, _oh hell, we’re going to snog in a lift_ —he licked his thumb before scrubbing my forehead with it.  
  
Wha--?  
  
“You’ve got soot on your forehead, Luce.” He grinned before stepping out onto Level Seven when the lift stopped. He waved before walking on and the lift took me down to where I belong, half my brains spilled on the floor about what the fuck Lysander is playing at, being such a bloody tease.  
  
I walked to our office grudgingly, scrubbing my forehead (with a clean hand) away in case of more soot. I asked Titus for any of his fruit-smelling sanitizers and he passed me a papaya-one. I was about to collapse in the comfy seat behind my desk when I found Witch Weekly’s Sharon Baron seated on it, trying her best to flirt with Trevor, who was the desk behind me.  
  
Ooh, good luck, girl.  
  
She whirled around, throwing me a disdain look. “Oh, _you._ ” She examined a nail once more as it shone gold. “I took your seat because it’s the closest one to Mr. Paisley. It’s his turn on the interview.” She made a shooing gesture at me.  
  
“I thought we’re continuing _my_ interview today.” I said hotly.  
  
“Nope, you’re done.”  
  
I stood there, still a bit covered in soot, flushed. I grumbled away before I do something I’ll regret like try to embrace her so that her periwinkle dress gets soot on it, too. Or fight her, maybe.  
  
Although I’m awful at fights because with my involuntary habit of smiling plus my unnecessary crying whenever an argument was becoming so heated up, I always end up as the loser. Even if I win the argument.  
  
I mean, who smiles when they’re nose is red, eyes are puffy and tears are falling down their cheeks?  
  
Me, apparently.  
  
“’Sup, Lucy?” Karenina asked as she walked passed me. I followed her to her desk and sat on the chair in front of it.  
  
“Well,” I started out but she held up a finger and started on her work, flicking her dark hair back. I sighed but not before throwing her an understanding smile to which she just ignored. She started tapping her finger on the desk—a sign of impatience. A sign that I should get the hell out of her face.  
  
I stood up and proceeded to Titus’ desk. He swivelled his chair dramatically to face me.  
  
“Is it going to be that Scamander babe, again?”  
  
“I had a run-in with him in the lift!” I gushed on and Titus raised a knowing eyebrow. “He’s got this same look in those silver eyes when we snogged last last week!” My voiced dropped into whisper-shouting as Titus covered his perfect-O mouth with a manicured hand.  
  
“Did you guys snog, again?”  
  
“Er—“  
  
Titus threw his hands dramatically in the air. “Mother of all fit boys, Lucy! Why didn’t you?”  
  
“I didn’t want to do the first move—“  
  
“Oh being a timid woman, now, are we? It’s not like you haven’t lunged at him at the Welcome Party! I saw you drunk in your damsel-in-distress sequined red micro-mini dress and those pump red Louboutin-imitations lunging at his perfectly-tailored dark green robes of Malkin’s quality! And now _you’re_ proclaiming to be a timid woman?! _Puh-lease_.”  
  
I rolled my eyes at Titus dramatic tirade. “You made me sound like some harlot.” I frowned at him before ducking my hand into his open tin of jammy dodgers. He slapped my hand away. “It’s really not that I didn’t want to be the one who does the first move, Ti. I was more wondering about what if I was actually a bad kisser and he didn’t want to kiss me again?”  
  
“I wouldn’t be surprised, Lucy wussy.”  
  
I looked up at June, who plopped down on the edge of Titus desk.  
  
“I would gag if someone like you ever gets on a hugging distance within me.” June shuddered and scooted slightly away from me. “Then I’ll bury myself alive. I bet Lysander’s finding the perfect grave now.”  
  
“Can’t you just collect all the paper airplane memos and bring them to me?” I sighed, ignoring her remarks about my snogging abilities.  
  
“No.”  
  
“LUCY!”  
  
I groaned and waved at Titus who pushed Junebug off his desk, proclaiming about mahoganies. I walked over and stopped in front of Rick’s office door. He didn’t even bother to lift the lock on it.  
  
“Should I _alohomora_ this one?” I asked loudly through the glass, knocking on it.  
  
He just shot me a weird smile and gestured on it. “By all means, try.”  
  
I furrowed my eyebrows at him before tapping my wand on the knob, casting the spell. I heard the familiar sound of the knob being unlocked but when I touched the doorknob and turned it, a wailing piercing sound began ringing loudly.  
  
I clapped my hands on my ears yelling “What the hell?!” at Rick who started guffawing behind his desk, slapping on it as he continued laughing.  
  
The sound caused quite a commotion to my fellow workers and Old Arthur thought the wailing sound was a fire alarm that he started casting _aguamenti_ everywhere, running back and forth in the office as fast as his stubby legs can take him. He even blasted water so strong towards Rick’s office that his glass door shook and broke, the water bursting straight through Rick’s guffawing face.  
  
Someone managed to calm Arthur down—Trevor cast a full-body bind spell on him—and so we all stood there, drenched in water, mascara’s running down (Junebug), coughing out water (Rick), wailing (Titus), yelling profanities (Karenina and Trevor) and shell-shocked and spluttering (Sharon).  
  
One by one we threw Arthur a dirty look from his state on the floor. No one bothered to counter the spell Trevor hit him. His eyes moved frantically from side to side and he gave me a pleaded look.  
  
I was about to lift the spell off him but as I pulled my wet hair clinging on the back of my neck away, I decided to just dry him off with a spell and leave him for a few minutes more. Karenina sneered at Arthur, brandishing off the wet Howlers she was about to send. June squeezed the water from her purple hair directly into Arthur’s navy blue robes and Titus started wailing about his cosmetic products in Arthur’s ear.  
  
They continued on jeering at Old Arthur as I roamed around, drying everything. Rick started to brush the three off, admitting that it was really his fault. So now the three whipped their heads to Rick and started on jeering at him, instead.  
  
I passed my desk and dried off all my stuff in it. Sharon was busy putting on her makeup, muttering about how utterly idiotic our Department was and how we should be dissolved completely.  
  
I nodded to Trevor, who has his usual spiked-hair down on his forehead like a fringe. I thought wildly that it suited him better. He turned to look at me, his blue eyes glinting.  
  
“Nice thinking with the full body-bind curse, Paisley.” I commented, throwing him a grin.  
  
His eyes crinkled in amusement while the rest of his face remained stoic. He raised his eyebrows before turning his back on me and flicking his wand over his wet things.  
  
I would’ve been delusional but I thought I saw the corner of his mouth twitch into an almost smile.  
  
And I thought that it wasn’t such a bad look for him.  
  


*** 

**Interview: Arthur Perkins, Recovered from the Full Body-Bind Curse, Magical Maintenance**

  
  
  
  
“Can you feel your legs now?”  
  
“Not quite, but I’ll be okay.”  
  
“Alright. How many years are you here in the Magical Maintenance Department?”  
  
“Twenty-two, I think. Because I wasn’t in the Upper Department at first—I was on the Lower one. Y’know, the Magical Maintenance Branch B: Cleaning Staff. Then I was moved here and—“  
  
“How many mishaps have you caused in this Department?”  
  
“One, two—too many to count, I think.”  
  
“When do you plan to retire?”  
  
“What? Never! I love—“  
  
“Okay. Next!”  
  
“Next? Next question or?”  
  
“Next!”  
  
“Oh should I go now?”  
  
“NEXT!”


End file.
